Crazy Little Place Called Bermuda
by Meilan Firaga
Summary: Gwen Grayson is not happy with what they've done to her post-attempted-hostile-takeover.  Really, don't the super police have any human decency?  Rated T for language.


_**Crazy Little Place Called Bermuda**_

As much as I wish I had the vast amounts of money that Disney does, I do not. Sky High belongs solely to them despite my requests for donation of the rights.

Gwen really hated her life right now. Puberty the first time through had sucked. Being unpopular during her first tour of high school had been depressing. Being classified as a Sidekick when her powers could do so much more had angered her far beyond belief. Going up against The Commander and repeatedly being referred to as 'he' or 'him' because apparently women were incapable of being nefarious villains had nearly driven her to the breaking point. And now…now things had doubled in their intensity so much that she didn't even know where to begin processing it all in her mind.

Puberty the second time through had been an absolute bitch. Popularity in high school turned out to be even harder to deal with than anonymity. Recognition as part of the Hero class had increased her workload—both as a student and in trying to keep up her act—nearly tenfold. The balancing act between hormones, socializing, homework, and her own nefarious plots had nearly broken her in all the ways she never thought she could be broken.

Then had come the penultimate battle. It was supposed to be her crowning glory, her final revenge, and the day that all the stress paid off and took a backseat to her new state as the notorious bad egg who took out both The Commander and Jetstream in a single heist. Of course, she never would have expected that their irritating, pretty-boy spawn would be the one to foil all of her plans—with a measly group of Sidekicks, no less! It was humiliating, degrading, debased, and the punishment they'd chosen for her was even worse.

She sighed softly, shifting to one side so as not to extinguish the single candle she was using to read the same romance novel she'd read a week ago. The island didn't get dark until late, but she had little to do but read, nap, and avoid the four idiots she'd been sentenced to live with, so going to sleep shortly after dark held little appeal. Their prison was quite literally a technopath's worst nightmare. They were on a tiny island dead in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle—a zone guaranteed to have no planes fly over and no boats enter.

The prison itself was not what typically sprang to mind when one considered confinement. Instead of concrete walls and iron bars the home Gwen shared with Lash, Speed, Penny, and Stitches was a comfortably sized four bedroom log cabin. What made it Hell on Earth was the extensive techno-proofing. There was no stove, no lightbulbs, no electricity—no technology of any variety. Their heat was provided by whatever fire they might ignite from matches and wood found on the island. Their light was either candles or the sun, and their cooling systems were completely non-existent.

Gwen had been stuck there for three-hundred and eighty-two days, six hours, and forty-eight minutes and counting. At least, she was fairly sure that was the count when one had only the cycles of the sun and moon by which to tell time. Using some rocks, a slat of wood broken off the porch, and the position of the stars for the cardinal directions she had fashioned a sundial in the yard that sort of worked. Of course, then she'd had to try and explain how to use it to the collection of imbeciles who were her roommates…

Suddenly, her pulse increased. Her head lifted, her eyes widened, and the book fell completely disregarded from her hands. A slow, maniacal smile spread across her features as all of her senses kicked into overdrive.

Something was coming.

She hastily stood from the couch, paying no heed to the blank stares of her roommates, and rushed to the cabin's front door. Wrenching it open and rushing to the shoreline, she stopped dead in her tracks. Euphoric tears shone on her cheeks as her eyes fell upon the moving point of light on the horizon.

"Is that…" Lash's voice drifted to her from the porch, tinged with awe. "Is that a cruise ship?"

"Yes," Gwen whispered in reply. She closed her eyes, reaching deep inside for her power. Vaguely her brain registered the sound of alarm as Lash called out to her, but she was too focused, too determined to let his words reach her mind. She felt for the ship, and released a burst of control that should have brought it careening across the waves to them.

A vast flash of light lit the horizon as the ship exploding, flames stretching to the sky. Gwen's eyes flew open and she sank to her knees, suddenly realizing what Lash must have said.

"The Bermuda Triangle," she muttered, her second class of Superpowered Locations Across the World coming back in a rush, "the one place on Earth that amplifies powers to phenomenal proportions." She raised a fist and slammed it hard into the sand. "GODDAMMIT!"


End file.
